Consequences
by MrsMCrieff
Summary: Sherlock's bored when a new serial killer comes to his notice. With John busy with his new family he recruits his pathologist to help with the investigation. But all this time spent together has consequences, maybe she is more than just his pathologist...a Sherlolly crime story.
1. Chapter 1

**So a New Year and a new story. The aim is that this will have a bit more of an actual crime plot line but don't worry there will be plenty of Sherlolly. I just wanted to challenge myself a bit more. I'm dedicating this to Lilsherlockian1975 and Shazzykins to thank you both for your PMs and support.**

**There are some dark themes and mention of rape but only in conversation not in action. I've rated it m more for the future smut.**

**Disclaimer - I own nothing, I owe it all to ACD, Moffatt and Gatiss and I am now counting down the days until we get our new Sherlock episode. **

**Chapter 1**

Sherlock Holmes was bored. Really and truly bored. He had even started smoking again and it had helped for a while but his head was still buzzing with energy and thought with nowhere to direct it to.

He was also lonely. John had moved back in with Mary following their tentative reunion at Christmas and since she had had the baby a fortnight ago John had become more or less none existent. Sherlock had tried really hard to feign an interest in the child, he couldn't for the life of him remember her name, but she hadn't done much to relieve the boredom. Too much noise and the smells, his nose scrunched up with the memory. No, he wouldn't be seeing much of John for the foreseeable future.

It was bad news for Sherlock but he was thinking it must be good news for Molly because here he was trying to occupy himself in her morgue.

Granted she'd already threatened to have him thrown out if he broke any more equipment or tried to make any more poisons but he was aware she still had feelings for him so she must be glad he were here.

He glanced over to where she was conducting an autopsy on a recent murder victim. He was itching to go and have a look but the case didn't belong to Lestrade so it was off limits. Not everyone was so keen to have Sherlock's input on a case. Fools.

He must admit he did find watching Molly perform an autopsy very soothing. She was organised and methodical in the way she carried it out. Quietly spoken but very observant, when it came to the dead, he found it calming which was why he had decided to conduct his latest experiments down here, with her, rather than alone in the lab.

A few minutes later he was surprised to hear a comment out loud from Molly, 'no, that can't be right.'

He looked up curiously; it wasn't like Molly to talk to herself. He was used to hearing the click of the recorder and her citing her observations but this was different. Her body language told him that she had found something unusual. He couldn't bear it any longer and was on his feet, striding towards her, in seconds.

'What is it Molly? What have you found?'

She looked at him with surprise, as though she had forgotten he was there, 'oh Sherlock, good, just have a look at these wounds on her upper thighs. See here and here. The police told me she was a victim of rape and then murdered but it doesn't look right, do you see?' She fell silent giving him time to inspect the body.

She realised she shouldn't be letting him do this but what she had seen was quite confusing.

'These wounds were obviously inflicted after death, Molly, I assume the rape therefore took place post mortem rather than before. Necrophilia?'

'No, I don't agree. I don't think she was raped at all either before or after death. I think it has just been set up to look like a rape/murder. But why? Why kill someone and then make it look like they were raped? What would be the advantage?'

'Why indeed?' Said Sherlock, pulling his phone from his pocket and dialling quickly.

'Who are you calling?' Asked Molly.

'Lestrade, I need him to take over this case straight away. Finally, something to end this interminable boredom.' He said with a smile and unrestrained glee in his voice.

He turned away taking up the conversation with Lestrade and Molly watching him pacing around as she rolled her eyes. Only Sherlock could show this much enjoyment over a murder case. If it had been anyone else she would have found it ghoulish but she knew how bored he was. He'd been causing her no end of grief since he'd landed in the morgue earlier that day. It would do him good to have a good case to sink his teeth into, metaphorically speaking of course.

Lab equipment aside she was just glad he was still here with them. She'd heard all about what had happened at Christmas and had read between the lines, more than John had, that the case that he had been being sent on was one he was not expected to come back from.

She was glad she had never needed to receive the letter that he had apparently written to her. Yes, she was curious about what he might have said in it but she'd far rather be curious than have him dead. She winced at the thought. She still cared far too much about Sherlock than was healthy for her and he was still exactly the same as he always had been with her.

No, actually that wasn't true, they were friends now in a way that they hadn't been before the 'fall'. She found she was more comfortable around him now. Yes, she still liked him but there was less stuttering and nervousness, she could be herself around him, confident that he respected and liked her too even if it wasn't romantically.

'Brilliant, come down to the morgue and bring any paperwork, everything, no matter how insignificant.'

Sherlock finished the call and returned back to the body rubbing his hands together.

'I take it you were successful then?' Molly asked smiling at how much Sherlock had perked up in the last five minutes.

'Yes, it means putting up with Donovan as well unfortunately but we can't have everything can we. Now coffee, black, two sugars Molly this could take a while.'

'Yes, I think I know your coffee preference by now,' she huffed as she removed her gloves. But Sherlock was no longer listening he was circling the body, hands hovering over the skin but not touching, eyes narrowed as he swept the skin, this time looking for any clues.

MHMHMHMHMHMHMHMH

It was half an hour later when Lestrade arrived. Sherlock had already started running some tests on dirt found under her finger nails. He'd been barking orders at Molly but she ignored most of them, continuing on with her autopsy.

'Finally Graham, what took you so long? Long lunch at the Yard before picking up the murder case to work on.'

'It's Greg, you git, why can't you ever remember my name? And no, I came straight here after sorting out transferring the case to my division. There is such a thing as due process you know.'

'Tsk, give me the file. What do we know about her?'

'Relatively little, Rachel Wheeler, aged 47, divorced, no children. Works as a legal secretary in a small solicitors. Lived in a flat on her own with her cat for company. Sounds fairly mediocre.'

Molly blushed lightly but didn't say anything not wanting to draw a comparison with her own life.

Sherlock didn't respond straight away he was flicking through the thin file before throwing it onto the desk. 'Nothing, there must be more to this. She's important somehow and she won't be the last. We have a serial killer on our hands but we need more information, more deaths.'

'Nice, Sherlock, very nice. How about we try to solve this before there are any more murders?' Grumbled Lestrade.

'Maybe if I had been called in at the start... yes, that's it, I need to see where the body was found, there's probably something your minions have forgotten or overlooked. Molly, Molly...where are you going?'

Molly had put her work away whilst Sherlock and Lestrade were conversing and she was now coat on, bag in hand, just about to leave the lab.

'I'm off home, Sherlock. In case you hadn't noticed my shift ended almost an hour ago.'

'No, I need you to come to the crime scene with me, I need an assistant. John's unavailable so you'll have to do.'

'Oh well, if you put it like that...No!'

'What? What do you mean no? ...oh this is one of those social convention things that John keeps going on about. There's a murderer on the loose Molly. I need your help.'

She stood her ground, holding the door open, staring Sherlock down. 'Fine...please.'

'Well OK but I expect some food afterwards, and I don't just mean a bag of Quavers!'

Sherlock huffed but nodded his agreement before retrieving his coat and moving to join her.

'What are you smirking about Greg?' Asked Sherlock as he passed him.

'Nothing, nothing...just enjoying seeing you being wrapped round Molly's little finger. Makes a change.'

Sherlock stopped mid stride swivelling round until he faced Lestrade. He drew himself up to his full height, eyes narrowed, 'I am not wrapped around Molly's little finger. I am not wrapped round anybody's anything.'

'If you say so Sherlock.'

Sherlock was about to respond when Molly interrupted.

'Yes, well if you two school boys can stop squabbling for a moment I'd like to get gone. The sooner we do this the sooner I can be home. Come on Sherlock.'

Sherlock followed Molly out trying to ignore Lestrade making wrapping motions round his little finger.

**I love a strong Molly. She's come on a long way since Season 1.**

**Anyhow, I'd love to know what you all think so far. Chapter postings will be two or three times a week. So happy new Year and Happy New Sherlock everyone!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Sorry for the delay in posting this new chapter, real life is getting in the way of my hobby, how very dare it! Back to work after two weeks off. Glad to see that filming for the new Sherlock is underway though.**

**Anyhow, thank you so much for the response to the first chapter, I don't think I've had so many reviews for a single posting before. I hope the rest of the story lives up to the start for you. Anyway enough from me lets get on with the story.**

**Normal disclaimers apply.**

**Chapter 2**

As they sat in the cab together, Sherlock reviewed what he knew about the case already. There wasn't much to go on and after ten minutes he'd exhausted everything.

He looked out of the cab window before he found his eyes sliding round to look at Molly. She was looking at something on her phone, a small smile playing on her mouth.

Graham had one thing right, when had Molly become so confident around him. He'd been so used to her stuttering and dropping things, clumsily bumping into furniture and barely able to look him in the eye but that was different now.

He cast his mind back going through some of their previous interactions, all meticulously recorded in his mind palace. Things had been different when he'd returned to London after his 'death'. Maybe it was helping him fake is death, or her engagement to...what was his name? Oh well definitely not important now that they were no longer together.

He remembered back to that time in the morgue when John had accused him of being on drugs again. Molly had slapped him, three times! His hand drifted up to his face recalling the sharp shock and pain and the look of anger in her eyes. Yes, she had definitely been more comfortable with him by then.

But how did he feel about that? He paused for a moment trying to assess his thoughts before being suddenly brought back to reality by the cabbie commenting their arrival. He asked him to wait for their return passing him a financial retainer to keep him sweet.

They got out bracing themselves against the chilly air. It was early February and there was a faint residue of snow on some of the grassy areas still, any on the roads and pavements had long since disappeared.

Wrapping their coats around themselves they made their way over to the abandoned warehouse where there was a lone police officer standing guard at the entrance He nodded to them as they approached.

'Mr Holmes, Miss Hooper, DI Lestrade said you were on your way. The murder scene is just inside, second door on the left. Forensics have just left but the lighting has been left on for you.'

Sherlock just nodded with an absent, 'that's Doctor Hooper, not Miss,' as he scanned the area leading up to the doorway, knees partially bent, eyes on the ground. He made his way up to the door slowly, looking left and right. Molly, smiled sympathetically at the police officer as she walked a few paces behind, not exactly sure either what Sherlock was looking for or what he was expecting her to do.

'Damn it, there's been far too much activity here, it's almost impossible to see who entered and exited the building. There is one scuff mark here...do you see it?' He said pointing over to the left. It's been made by a heel similar to the ones she was wearing in the photograph. She was probably resisting, he pulled her.' He motioned with his hands, imitating pulling a body along.

'Yes, yes I see it.' Molly swallowed, suddenly having an image of the woman in her morgue, alive and terrified.

They, slowly, made their way through into the warehouse. Dotted along the corridor were powerful, mobile lights set up to illuminate as much of the area as possible. Again Sherlock took his time looking along the walls and the floor. When they entered the room they could see splashes of blood on the plain concrete floor and on one of the walls. They all had marks round them, numbers next to them to help identify them in the forensic photos.

Sherlock carried on his monologue to Molly detailing all the points that stood out to him. Where she had been strangled, where and how the different injuries had been inflicted. His long fingers casting shadows on the walls as he mimed actions, completely caught up in the killer's world.

'But I still don't know why he made it look like rape, it makes no sense...Was there anything found on the body? Anything in her pockets, her bag that you wouldn't expect to see there. There was no list in the file, it must still be being collated at the Yard.'

Molly thought back. She'd been there as they'd removed her clothing to catalogue each item.

'Oh, there was one thing that was unusual; a small weight. You know, like the sort you used to get with an old set of kitchen scales where you'd put the weight on one side and the flour or whatever on the other. I think it was a one ounce measure. It was in her pocket.'

'A weight...' Sherlock's mind riffled through all the possibilities but only one seemed to shed any light on this. 'Scales, maybe Scales of Justice. The weight of Sin. Maybe this was someone meting out Justice as they saw it.'

He paused, finally standing up straight, 'Brilliant Molly...I don't think there's anything else here. We might as well go.'

'Great, I'm starving,' said Molly perking up a bit, 'where are you taking me?'

'What? What are you talking about Molly? There's work to be done...a case, murder, this is no time for food.'

'But you promised...you know what, never mind, just let me pick up some chips on the way back to my flat OK.'

They made their way back to the cab careful not to slip on any icy patches. At least Sherlock was. Molly almost ended up on her backside but Sherlock's swift action meant he caught her, his strong arms around her waist standing her back upright. 'Th..thank you,' she mumbled enjoying the feel of him being close, his scent washing over her momentarily. Why did he always have to smell so good. And what was it anyway? Molly had spent many an hour in Boots and Debenham's sniffing all their after shaves trying to find his but to no avail. _I should just ask him, tell him I want to buy it for my brother or something._ But she knew she wouldn't, she quite liked the challenge.

The ride back to Molly's flat, via the chip shop, was uneventful. When they pulled over she was about to say goodbye, expecting him to be going on to Baker Street but instead he paid the cabbie and exited with her.

'Oh, are you coming in?'

'Yes, I thought you mentioned about us having chips, those ones in your hands to be precise,' he said, pointing to the roll of paper.

Molly closed her eyes in mild frustration but made her way up to her flat with Sherlock trailing along behind. _Looks like I've adopted myself a Consulting Detective_ she thought to herself smiling ruefully.

Once in the flat Sherlock hung up his coat and jacket and toed off his shoes before lying on her settee, his long legs hanging off the side. His hands were steepled under his chin and his eyes closed.

'Just make yourself at home then,' said Molly sarcastically.

'OK, just tea for me, thanks...oh and some of those chips.'

Molly patiently made them both a cuppa dividing the chips between them onto plates and bringing them through to the front room. There didn't seem much point eating chips formally at her small table in the corner.

Sherlock roused himself at the sound of the food and drink arriving, sitting up he picked at his chips whilst looking around at Molly's front room.

'You've decorated since I was last here...I don't like it.'

'Well, I do. Anyhow, it was nearly three years ago when you were last here. Things change, they move on.'

She couldn't help, in her mind, going back to that day all those years ago when she'd said goodbye to Sherlock not knowing if she would ever see him again. He'd hidden out in her flat for 48 hours until it was safe for Mycroft's men to move him on. He'd kissed her on the cheek and thanked her for her help before going out of the door without a backwards glance.

'I don't like change, why do things have to change.. Everything was alright as it was.'

Molly was taken aback by his angry outburst. 'I take it we're not talking about my decorating anymore. Is this..is this about John moving out?'

'No...yes...I don't know. It's just...not as it was.'

'You know Mary is really good for John though, don't you. And now they've got baby Elizabeth, things are bound to be different for a while but John will have time for you again soon enough. You just have to be patient.' Molly felt like she was talking to a petulant toddler, but she empathised with Sherlock's plight. He was just lonely and missing his best friend.

Sherlock meanwhile was busy cataloging the baby's name in John's room in his mind palace. It wouldn't do for him to forget that again. 'I don't do patient very well I'm afraid Molly.'

'Listen,' said Molly. 'Would you like to stay here tonight...on the settee I mean? It's a new one, pulls out into a bed. It'll save you going all the way back to Baker St.' she left off the _to an empty flat_. He just needed some company and as his friend she was happy to step in and provide it.

'I suppose it does make sense. Don't mind me, I'll be in my Mind Palace. I need to organise my thoughts around this case.'

With that he lay back down on the settee resuming his original pose.

'OK then,' said Molly to herself as she picked up her cuppa and her current book.

MHMHMHMHMHMHMHMH

He was still the same when she started to get ready for bed about two hours later. She wondered whether to disturb him, she wasn't quite convinced that he hadn't already fallen asleep.

In the end she covered him with a blanket and left some other bedding out so he could make up his own bed if he needed to later on.

She went to sleep trying not to dream about the man lying in the next room to her.

**So, bonus points to anyone who spotted the small nod to Doctor Who in the dialogue. Next chapter will be up Sunday so let me have your thoughts in the meantime. xxx **


	3. Chapter 3

**As promised here I am with our latest instalment. Thank you all for your feedback. Kudos to Applejacks0808 for being the first to spot the 'you've decorated...I don't like it' reference to Doctor Who, i believe it was first said by Patrick Troughton but repeated more recently.**

**Chapter 3**

When Molly woke up the next morning something was wrong. She made to roll over but there was an arm around her.

She was still half asleep and couldn't quite recall what she had done last night. Her stomach dropped, she hadn't gone out and picked someone up had she? No, no she'd spent the evening with Sherlock, with that her eyes flicked open fast, her sense of smell suddenly telling her that the man in her bed smelt vaguely of the cologne that Sherlock used. No, no, no... her head was on his bare chest, his arm wrapped around her waist holding her to him.

She felt him start to stir and she slowly tilted her head to look up at him. He looked almost as confused as she felt, for a moment, then he looked down at her before removing his arm so she could move.

'Morning Molly, any chance of a coffee before I go? I'll have a quick shower if that's OK.'

'OK...shower...what...I mean...'

'Are you alright this morning Molly you seem to have lost the ability to speak,' he raised an eyebrow at her as he pushed himself up to lounge gracefully in HER bed.

By this time Molly was sat up, clutching the covers to herself, and so far over onto her side that she was at risk of falling out. 'What exactly are you doing in my bed, Sherlock? I left you bedding...'

'Oh I couldn't be bothered with that,' he waved his hand dismissively, 'seemed no point when there was room in here. We're both adults Molly, no harm done...so that coffee?'

Molly mumbled expletives to herself whilst she wrapped a dressing gown round herself. She could feel herself channelling John as she heard herself exasperatedly saying 'unbelievable', but she made her way through to the kitchen to turn on the coffee machine.

A few seconds later she heard the sounds of the shower and had to will herself not to imagine him in it...naked.

She had just finished stirring the sugar into his cup when she heard him pad into the kitchen. 'Ah, good it's ready.'

She turned to hand it to him and almost dropped the cup on the floor. He was stood in front of her naked bar a white towel wrapped around his waist. His wet hair slicked back. Her jaw dropped at the sight, her heart beat doubling and a blush spreading across her face and chest. _Dear God, what is he trying to do to me?_

She was sure he must have noticed her reaction but for once he didn't say anything derogatory or cruel. Instead he leant back on the kitchen counter sipping his coffee and talking about the case.

In took her a minute or two before she could tune in to what he was saying...'...so if you could text me when you've written up the final autopsy and email me a copy. Also, I'll need to pop into Bart's later to see the results of the tests on some of the substances we found at the site. Make sure my bench is free, you know I can't stand it when anyone else is sat there.'

Molly nodded absentmindedly. She was looking at his scar, the one from when he'd been shot the previous year. She had a sudden, inexplicable urge to touch it. Without realising she moved forward, her hand rising. As she stood in front of him she looked up into his eyes seeing confusion there at her actions. She had to clear her throat before she could talk, 'do you mind if I...?' She looked back down at the scar.

'I..err..I suppose not.'

Gently she ran her index finger over the spot. It had healed well with very little scarring. It was amazing how something so small could do so much damage.

She stepped back, 'be careful Sherlock. I..we..none of us want to go through anything like that again.'

'Yes, well, if we've stopped being mawkishly sentimental, maybe I should get dressed and carry on with the case.' He slammed the half drunk cup down before making his way out of the kitchen.

SHSHSHSHSHSHSHSH

It was just over an hour later when Sherlock arrived back at Baker St. He'd called in at Scotland Yard on the way back to pick up the latest information that they had on the case and he'd come back to his flat to go through it all and order it in his mind.

He shrugged off his jacket and shoes before pulling on his camel dressing gown, then he sat on the settee with the file spread in front of him. He spent a couple of hours reading all the information, googling some additional items, pinning some of the vital bits around a photo of the victim that he'd stuck on the wall behind the settee. Finally he'd settled down, lying on the settee, in his normal prayer pose to go into his mind palace and file all that he had learnt.

He'd eventually finished as much as he could do on the case but found he still had his interactions with Molly milling about in his head. He frowned, concentrating on one reaction in particular. It really hadn't bothered him sleeping in Molly's bed, after all that had been his choice. He'd had to bunk in with John, when they been away on cases, and this had seemed no different in his opinion. Yes, it had been a surprise to wake up with Molly in his arms and it had been embarrassing that he'd also woken with a morning erection but that was a fairly natural physical response given the circumstances and she hadn't noticed so there was no issue.

If anything he'd found her reactions to him fascinating, her pupils had dilated, her heart rate had gone up, she'd had cognitive impairment which had interfered with her speech. It had been that which had made him enter the kitchen in just a towel; he wanted to catalogue her reactions to further stimulation.

It had all gone as planned until she'd stepped towards him and asked if it was OK to touch his scar. He'd felt confused, he didn't normally allow people to touch him, but saying no seemed ridiculous, even to him, given that she'd slept with her head on his chest overnight. So he'd allowed it. It had been a mistake.

The moment her fingers swept lightly over that spot on his body his breath had caught in his throat. It felt as though the nerve endings in his body were on fire with electricity radiating from the point where she was touching him. He had had a sudden urge to press her hand more fully to his chest. He'd even noted how blood had pulsed to his penis, which was surprising given he had recently dealt with that 'problem' in the shower.

He pondered what it meant, if anything. He'd already decided that he wouldn't be deleting the memories. He rarely deleted any of his interactions with his close friends. He'd found from past experience that it didn't go down well when they referred to previous conversations or nights out and he had no memory of them. He also had to admit that he was finding Molly of more interest at the moment. She was proving to be a good alternative to John and given that this case was probably going to take some time to solve having the additional ability to see and assess her responses to given situations would prove diverting as well as interesting.

When he came out of his mind palace he realised there was tea, sandwiches and cake left out for him on the coffee table with one of Mrs Hudson's tea towels over it to help keep it fresh.

He munched on the sandwiches whilst he decided on a plan of action. A trip to Bart's was definitely needed, mainly to go through the autopsy and test results but also to further his research into Molly's reactions. He wanted to see how she responded to his...hmm...his what? He'd already covered visuals quite a bit today and touch, though that had been more her touching him than him touching her...what about sound, his voice...yes he'd catalogue her responses to his voice. He nodded and smiled to himself, his plan decided.

**Ooh so Sherlock has an idea about how to help relieve his boredom...spend more time with his pathologist. I sense danger for our 'caring is not an advantage' guy, how about you?**


	4. Chapter 4

**Thank you for all your reviews, follows and favourites, I'm glad you're all enjoying the ride. So on with the show! Fingers crossed that Ben gets his Oscar nomination tonight.**

**Chapter 4**

It was late afternoon by the time Sherlock got to Bart's. The street lights were already coming on and it would soon be dark. For once he'd taken the time to walk down there enjoying the crisp air, the sights and smells of London.

He'd rarely taken the time to just enjoy the city prior to his 'death' but since his return he basked in just being back. He'd travelled all over the world, seen some amazing as well as disturbing sights but nothing felt home like London did.

When he got to the morgue Molly was in the middle of an autopsy. He didn't make his usual grand entrance, instead he slipped in without her noticing, crept up behind her and in his lowest voice said, 'Molly.'

As she swung round almost decapitating him with the scalpel in her hand he realised he might have misjudged this particular experiment. It was only a quick step back on his behalf that saw him get away scar free.

'Dear God Sherlock, what are you trying to do, you nearly gave me a heart attack.'

He recovered quickly, 'I apologise Molly, I thought you knew I was here.'

Again he kept his voice low and this time he did get more of the reaction he had been hoping for. Her eyes dilated and glazed over slightly and he noticed her breathing speeding up.

'I..err..well..I do now. I've printed a copy of the autopsy for you, it's over on my desk.'

'Thank you, Molly.' He almost crooned the words, watching her mouth fall open slightly her breath hitching. This was proving to be very informative as well as entertaining.

When Molly brought him coffee about half an hour later he quizzed her about various items on the autopsy and where they were at with some of the test results. His previous experiment was all but forgotten now his mind was concerned with the case again.

He still felt the revenge angle was the best to go on but as the victim had worked for many years as a legal secretary, for lawyers engaged in both prosecution and defence, it was like looking for a needle in a haystack.

He phoned Lestrade and grumbled to him 'I need more, there needs to be another murder and soon if we want to get to the bottom of this quickly. Get your goons to filter out the cases which best match the profile of a rape/murder or those that have some element of injustice attached to them and send me the details.' He hung up, pocketing the phone and stared off into space for a few minutes.

MHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMH

Molly watched him from a distance; he seemed to have entered his mind palace. It made her happy that he felt comfortable enough with her to do that. In years gone by he would have had John empty the room or he would have gone back to Baker St.

She blushed though at some of her reactions to him today. Since waking up in bed with him it was as though her feelings for him had multiplied tenfold. Every time he spoke to her it was as if his voice was oozing pure sex and she could barely concentrate on what he was saying. She needed to get a grip before he noticed. She still worried that if he ever fully understood the extent of her feelings he would run a mile and their friendship would be at an end.

She saw him come round, eyes starting to focus on the real world and not the one in his head. She busied herself with her paperwork eager to not look like she'd just been watching him.

'Ah, Molly, good your still here. I'm going back to Baker St. to review the files that Lestrade is sending over, as your shift is over I'm sure you won't mind coming with me to help.'

Again his voice was low, rumbling through her very soul. He was turning her on just by speaking, she could feel herself getting horny and it made her blush.

'I suppose so. Hang on though, last night you promised food and I had to get my own which you then nicked half of. What do I get tonight for helping?'

Sherlock spied an opportunity. He stepped closer too her, looking directly into her eyes and in his most seductive voice possible he murmured, 'what would you like?'

Molly gulped, heat and lust flooding into her system even more than before, she looked at him mouth open and couldn't think of a single thing to say. If he had been anyone else she would have thrown herself at him, but this was Sherlock Holmes and he probably had no clue of the effect he was having on her.

He smirked and spun on his heel, striding off towards his coat, 'just Chinese then Molly.'

_There was another option_ was all Molly could think as she stumbled behind him to get her own things.

SHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSH

Sherlock texted their order through to the Chinese as they made their way up through Bart's to hail a cab.

Once in the cab he turned to face the window and smiled, reviewing all of Molly's reactions. He had honestly worried for a moment that she might pass out when he'd asked her what she would like from him. This was very engrossing and he wished he'd thought of it years ago. He particularly liked the blush that spread across her cheeks and her chest. He wondered how far down it might go and how he might get a chance to see.

Molly was almost proving to be a better companion than John, as well as being knowledgeable and informative she knew his ways, didn't disturb him when he was thinking, didn't engage in inane conversation. He pondered the possibility of spending more time with her. He had been lonely since John had moved out, maybe Molly could fill that gap. She was proving to be most fascinating. When he tried evoking reactions from John it normally ended in him getting punched in the face. He found himself contemplating other ways to get a reaction.

MHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMH

Back at Sherlock's flat, Molly searched the kitchen looking for clean plates and cutlery for them to eat their food with.

'When was the last time you cleaned up Sherlock?' She asked as she binned some previous, take out boxes and peered at some plates to see whether it was food mould or some kind of experiment to be saved.

'Hmmmmm.'

She looked over to see him intently staring at the screen of his laptop. She sighed rolling up her sleeves and running the tap to do some washing up.

By the time he looked up Molly had tidied the kitchen, washed up the least dodgy looking plates and laid the food out on the coffee table. He meandered over and sat just close enough that their thighs were touching. Molly looked at him sideways but didn't say anything and he made sure his expression was blank. He even managed a deep 'mmmmmmmm delicious food' as they ate and tried not to smirk when he saw Molly's eyes close in frustration.

They ate as they discussed some of the old cases that Sherlock had read about following the email from Lestrade. So far nothing felt quite right. Molly asked some quite insightful questions, giving her opinion on the pathology in some of the cases. 'Maybe it was a rape rather than a rape/murder that is being revenged. If it was a mother or wife they might feel angry enough to revenge it as well as explaining why they didn't want to actually rape her themselves.'

Sherlock was impressed by her reasoning and shot a text off to Lestrade asking for cases where a rapist was defended or the prosecution failed for some reason.

When he next noticed Molly it was past midnight and she was fast asleep on the settee. He would have wondered where the time had gone too but this was a fairly regular occurrence for him. He pondered what he should do.

It seemed 'not nice' to wake her and send her on her way, even if he did hail the cab for her but likewise she didn't look that comfy on the couch though.

In the end he picked her up as gently as he could and carried her through to his room before laying her down on the bed. He removed her shoes and socks and started to undo her trousers ready to remove them when he had a sudden qualm about the propriety of his actions.

He grabbed his phone and sent a quick text.

**John how much clothing is it appropriate to remove from a sleeping woman? SH**

It didn't take long for Johns reply to come back.

**What the hell Sherlock! Probably nothing. Who is asleep and why are you undressing them? **

**Molly, she fell asleep so I put her in my bed. Should I put her shoes back on then? SH**

**No, I think your safe removing her shoes. You can remove her jumper or cardigan, if she's wearing one, but only if she has something more than a bra on underneath.**

Sherlock tentatively lifted the hem of her jumper, yes there was some kind of T shirt underneath.

He sat on the edge of the bed and lifted her into a seating position with one arm whilst he removed the jumper with the other.

Before he could lay her back down her arms looped round his neck and she nuzzled her face into the base of his neck moaning lightly as she did.

He froze unsure of what he wanted to do. His brain told him to extricate himself and quickly but another unfamiliar part of him was enjoying it. She felt so slight in his arms and her breath against his neck was causing all kinds of strange and some not so strange reactions in his body. For the first time ever he had an overwhelming desire to kiss her, to taste her.

Whilst he'd been internally arguing with himself her hands had made their way up into his hair and she tugged lightly on his curls.

He had never heard himself groan with desire before but he did now. It shocked him into action and he swiftly lay Molly back down untangling her from him. He threw a cover over her and exited the room.

As he shut the door he leant against it, head down breathing hard. What the hell had just happened there?

**Maybe it's just starting to occur to our 'genius' that he's in a bit of trouble :). I do love this part of a Sherlolly story, the point where he starts to realise he has feelings. What's your favourite bit, the end, the first kiss, first time they have sex? Let me know.**


	5. Chapter 5

**A calm, quiet Sunday so time for a new posting whilst we wait for the snow that is supposed to arrive this evening. Congratulations to Benedict on his fantastic Oscar nomination, I'm rooting for him to win though I think he's only got an outside chance. I'm sure it won't be his last nomination though.**

**Anyway, thank you all for your comments, they made for interesting reading as to the moments in Sherlolly that you most enjoy, i'll bear them in mind when writing future fics. But enough of me lets read on.**

**Chapter 5**

Sherlock spent the night safely on the settee. He had had a lot to think about since he'd put Molly to bed earlier not least of which had been his own reaction when she'd put her arms around him.

He'd never really given any thought to relationships in recent years, if ever. Yes other people had them, sometimes inconveniently so, but he'd never felt any desire to have one himself.

He knew John had read something into his own interactions with Irene, and yes she had fascinated him, but he had never wanted to engage in anything physical with her, sex was her weapon of choice and he wasn't naive enough to fall for it.

He'd experimented in his youth sleeping with both men and women but none of it had done much for him beyond the obvious release and since his drug rehab he'd abstained through choice. He wasn't sure he was quite ready to reverse that decision just yet but he acknowledged that Molly was something more...could be something more.

He analysed their friendship. They had overlapping interests. He certainly found her job and expertise stimulating. She understood him and his 'foibles'. She wouldn't expect a normal relationship with him. He...yes he enjoyed spending time with her, even more so since John had left. He was quite solitary, unhappily so, and she could fill that gap, but was there more to it than that?

Did he want her? He thought back to her touching his chest the morning before, her hands tangled in his hair pulling that groan from him and he could feel blood starting to pump in his crotch. He remembered how much he wanted to see where that blush went and her open mouthed reaction to him asking her what she wanted from him. Oh yes, he could want her if he chose to go down that path and not repress it. Should he repress it?

In the end he decided to further his experiment in cataloguing her reactions and make a final decision later. He was enjoying himself more in the last couple of days than he had in months and he decided to just go with it for now regardless of the consequences.

MHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMH

Molly had a second morning of waking up in confusion. This time she was alone but she had no idea where she was.

She looked around the room noting with relief that she was still dressed albeit minus her jumper which was laid out at the end of the bed. There was a periodic table pinned up in one wall and a blue dressing gown hung up being the door and the whole room smelt of just one person...Sherlock.

After the initial shock she let out a bit of a school girl giggle and hugged one of the pillows. Oh my god she was in his bedroom. She felt an overwhelming urge to peek, to look in his drawers and check out his wardrobe, God knows what secrets she would find. Of course she didn't, but it took some effort of will not to. The only thing she did do was tiptoe over to the chest of drawers in the corner and look at the half empty cologne bottle on the top.

It looked very expensive with a foreign sounding name, nothing she'd ever heard of. She took the lid off and was just in the process of sniffing it when Sherlock walked in.

She squawked in shock hiding the bottle behind her back and then felt foolish for being so obvious.

'Ah Molly, you're up. I just brought you a coffee. Are you OK? Can I help you find anything else of mine?'

'Erm..no..sorry I was just curious about your after shave that was all. I just wanted to know what it was called, thought I might buy it for my brother for his birthday.' She blushed at the lie knowing he could probably see right through it.

He smirked before replying, 'let me know if you do, it's rather hard to get hold of here, I have it imported. Bathroom's free if you want a shower, I'll just be in the front room working if you need anything.' By now he had walked up to her, he bent towards her watching her reactions as she saw him getting closer. As their faces drew closer together he saw her gaze move to his mouth and she licked her lips, instead of kissing her though he reached behind her back removing the bottle from her grasp before returning it to its place on the chest of drawers.

He left the room leaving a quivering heap of Molly in his wake.

MHMHMHMHMHMHNHMHMH

As Molly dried off after her shower and redressed she heard the door bell ringing and Sherlock running down to answer it. She left the bedroom only to be greeted by the delicious smells of fresh made pastries that Sherlock was decanting from a paper bag. 'Local bakery delivers, well delivers to me anyway, helped the owner out one time.'

'You rack up favours all over the city don't you.'

He was trying to think up a suitably saucy response when his phone rang. He glanced at it, 'Lestrade... help yourself,' he said gesturing to the pastries as he answered the phone and walked away.

Molly couldn't help over hearing as Sherlock barked questions at Greg, 'who...when...how...the address... I'll be there in half an hour with Molly...yes, she's here with me...she stayed over...what? No...that isn't important right now.' He hung up and turned back to Molly.

'Honestly, you'd have thought I'd never had anyone stay over before,' he said. 'There's been another murder, at least they think it's a murder, set up to look like suicide. A retired judge lives just outside town in Epsom. I'll get changed and we can set off, bring the pastries you can eat them on the way.' With that he went into his room shutting the door behind him.

'OK then, yes don't mind coming with you. Thanks for asking.' Molly said to the empty room.

MHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMH

When they arrived at the scene Donovan came out to meet them, 'Freak, Molly, the body is through this way.' She led them round the side of the house to the garage which was milling with officers and forensics. 'We've left the body up for you to both look at.'

Inside the garage was the stench of death. Hanging from a beam in the garage was an older gentleman; Molly estimated he was late sixties, early seventies. He'd been hung using a nylon rope, like the sort used by climbers. She examined the body looking for clues as to how long he had been dead for.

Sherlock gave her access to the body whilst he circled round pulling out his small expandable magnifying glass and peering at different points which caught his attention. Molly finished her examination and looked over at Sherlock 'He's been dead about eight hours I'd say. First impression is that he was asphyxiated due to hanging. He definitely wasn't dead before.'

'What made you call us Lestrade, there must have been something? And why were you called in in the first place, all the surface evidence points to suicide?' Sherlock stopped and waited for Greg's response.

'I was called because he's high profile. As you know certain people have triggers against their name if anything suspicious is reported. When we got here we weren't concerned initially, all looked fairly straight forward but then I found this in his pocket.' He held up an evidence bag with a small weight inside it, slightly bigger than the one they'd found on the woman but similar in every other respect.

Sherlock grabbed the bag holding it up so he could see. 'Oh, yes this is good...brilliant. Molly, you can do the autopsy can't you? Greg ask your people to send me any cases where both names overlap, this should really help us narrow things down. Perfect.' He clapped his hands together and spun round eliciting raised eyebrows and murmured comments from some of the police and forensics.

Molly touched his arm and whispered, 'Sherlock, tone it down a bit, not everyone is as enthusiastic about death as you and I.' Sherlock glanced round acknowledging the various reactions before nodding to her in understanding.

It took a few hours to finish everything at the scene of crime and get the body back to the morgue where Molly quickly got to work with Sherlock hovering round.

She was used to him sometimes watching her work, he liked listening to her observations, pointing out his own, asking her questions. This time however, he seemed particularly...she wasn't sure what the word was...keen...enthusiastic. At one point they were almost cheek to cheek as he leant over the body across from her. If she'd tilted her head just slightly her lips would have been on his face.

Later he came round behind her leaning over her shoulder to look at something else. His body was almost pressed up against her, she was sure she had stopped breathing whilst it happened and had to take a gulp of air as he moved away.

He touched her arm to stop her, placed a hand on her back as he moved to go past her. She had never known him to touch her so much and be so invasive of her personal space.

Not that she was complaining and not that she had anything concrete to complain about. It was just odd...unusual, even for Sherlock who was odd and unusual at the best of times.

She was glad when they were finally finished and she was cleaning up ready to go home.

'Your place or mine then?' He asked.

'Oh..I..do you still need me then?'

'Well, this case isn't going to solve itself and I still need someone to bounce ideas off...what with John being unavailable. You don't mind do you Molly?'

'No, I suppose not. I could really do with going back to mine, Toby needs feeding, he doesn't like being left too often.'

'Sorry who's Toby?' Sherlock scrunched up his nose trying to fit a face to the name, 'oh, the cat. Fair enough, we can swing by Baker St. to pick up my things.'

'Your...your things?'

'Yes, Molly, if I'm staying over I'd quite like my pyjamas, toothbrush.' He spoke as if she were a child who needed a simple explanation. And to be perfectly honest, she felt as baffled as a child. She had never spent this much time in Sherlock's company. It was as if they were joined at the hip all of a sudden.

She thought about it as they took the cab to her place via Baker St. She was certainly enjoying being so close to him but she wasn't sure it was good for her heart. He obviously had no idea the impact he was he was having on her and spending all this time with him was just making her want him more. She just wasn't strong enough to walk away though or say no to his spending more time with her. She would just have to deal with the disappointment when it came.

**As ever let me know what you think, I live for your reviews :).**


	6. Chapter 6

**Sorry it took so long to get this chapter posted I had wanted to get it up yesterday but work got in the way. Next chapter will be up Sunday so not as long for you all to wait. A warning, things do hot up in this chapter, so smut alert…..Be honest, you're all smiling now in anticipation aren't you?**

**Normal disclaimers apply.**

**Chapter 6**

This time Molly insisted on cooking, even if it was just a simple pasta dish. 'You can't not eat at all or just eat take away food, it's not healthy, Sherlock.'

He huffed in irritation trying to ignore her but she continued, 'it's not good for brain work, you need good nutrition to keep your brain functioning at its optimum capacity.' At this he grudgingly admitted she might be right so when the food was ready he came over and sat at the dining table without complaint.

Molly quickly became aware that, somehow, their knees seemed to be touching. She tried shifting her chair but it happened again. Sherlock didn't seem to notice but all her attention seemed to be focused on that one spot where they touched.

Sherlock meanwhile had noticed that her reactions did not seem to be lessening the more he touched her, if anything they were becoming more pronounced. Familiarity it seemed did not breed contempt.

He was also finding his own reactions interesting. The most powerful had been when he had leant over her, at the autopsy, his front almost but not quite pressing on her back. He had had to really control himself not to push himself against her the way he suddenly found himself wanting to.

He also caught himself staring at her lips more than once. Funny, he'd always thought they were too small in the past but they looked just right now. Was sentiment causing a chemical reaction in his brain, causing him to see things differently? He knew hormones were a powerful substance but he'd never really thought of their effect on himself before.

He wondered how he could progress things further without crossing any lines that they couldn't come back from. He was conscious he didn't want to do anything to affect his relationship with Molly detrimentally.

After they had eaten he asked Molly whether he could use her laptop to see what Lestrade's team had been able to come up with. He was confident they would soon find a case that both victims had worked on and from that it would be an easy thing to find the murderer.

As Molly logged onto the laptop to open it up for him he leant over her, one hand on the back of the chair the other on the table, effectively pinning her in. Once again he noticed the subtle changes in her breathing, the flush spreading across her cheeks.

He gave her his email details rather than have her move, he didn't think he needed to worry about Molly hacking into his messages.

'W..wouldn't you rather take over now?' She asked turning her face towards him and then realising how close he was. He turned to her and they were only an inch or so apart. She couldn't help the way her eyes dropped to his lips and because of that she saw the twitch that flickered across them as he tried not to smile at her reaction. 'No that's OK Molly it'll be good for us both to see the details.' He turned back to the screen.

Molly was confused, from anyone else she would say he were flirting, getting a rise or a reaction from her, pushing her buttons. Could he really be doing that? She'd seen that flicker of a smile that told her he knew exactly what her reaction was. So either he was making fun of her, always likely, or he was trying to get close to her. But which?

In the end he pulled a chair up next to her, their thighs and arms touching. Molly decided to return the favour, turn the tables somewhat. Putting one hand on his arm she pointed at some detail on the screen, 'what about this case?'

'No,' he scoffed, 'too old, the first victim would have been about 12.'

He didn't pull away from her touch though like he had done in the past. The next time she wanted his attention her hand went to his knee.

She glanced at him as she did and saw his Adam's apple bob up and down before he was able to speak.

The third time she put her hand on his thigh and he stood up so quickly the chair almost fell backwards.

He groaned, ruffling his hair with his hands in frustration. 'Its no good, none of these cases show any connection. It has to be there, there must be something, something they've missed. If only I could access the records myself.' He withdrew his phone and started texting furiously.

Molly had watched all this with a small smile on her face. So she was having an affect on him after all. 'Who are you texting?'

'My brother, I hate owing him favours but he just might give me clearance to look at the CPS records directly rather than relying on those imbeciles at the Yard.' Once the text was sent he tossed the phone onto the table and threw himself onto the settee with an exasperated sigh.

Molly went and sat next to him, feeling the nervous energy pouring off him. 'Come on, lie down,' she said patting her lap.

'What?' Sherlock just looked at her in shock.

'You're stressed, let me see if I can help.'

He scoffed but did as she asked, lying with his head in her lap staring up at her with suspicious eyes, his legs hanging over the side of the settee.

'Close your eyes and try to relax, my mum used to do this when I got stressed with school work and stuff.'

Again he did as she asked closing his eyes, but this time he smiled, 'what was the 'and stuff' that you got stressed about?'

Molly slid her hands into his hair. She had always wanted to do this, it always looked so lush and soft. She gently scraped his scalp with her fingernails causing a low moan to escape Sherlock's lips. That moan seemed to go straight to her core and she had to work hard not to squirm under him. 'Oh you know, boys, that sort of thing.'

She carried on massaging his scalp, pulling lightly on his hair, moving her fingers in slow circles.

Sherlock was in sensory overload. The feeling of Molly's fingers scraping his scalp seemed to travel the full length of his body. He had never had someone touch him so intimately before, it seemed so much more personal than sex had ever been. Is this what it felt like to be touched by someone who cared about you? How had he gone without this for so long? How did he not know it could feel this good? He heard himself moan and didn't have the will power to stop it. He could lie like this all night and never get bored of the feelings.

It was only when his cock was straining against his trousers that he realised he ought to move before Molly noticed.

He sat up swiftly and twisting around he caught Molly's hands in his. 'Thank you Molly, that felt...'

Their eyes were locked together and he felt himself leaning forwards, his eyes drifted to her lips and he wanted her. At that moment he wanted nothing more than to kiss her, to catalogue the feel of her lips against his, to taste her and have her wrap herself around him.

At the last moment he looked back up to find her eyes closed, her lips parted and he was lost, he closed his own eyes just as his lips touched hers and it took his breath away.

He brought his hands up to either side of her face tilting her slightly so he could deepen the kiss. His blood was pounding in his ears and he felt the lust he'd repressed for so many years start to unfurl low in his stomach. His cock was now almost painful and he pulled her closer, unconsciously desperate to gain some kind of friction or relief.

She slid easily into his lap pressing herself against him eagerly. Her own hands were in his hair tugging and gripping it. She moved her tongue against his and for a moment he was actually worried he might come in his pants like a twelve year old. He couldn't breathe, he couldn't think, all there was was Molly and his own desires.

Her skirt had ridden up as she had straddled him and he pushed it further up her thighs. She rubbed herself against him, both of them moaning from the action, his hips bucking up against her. Her hands were on his chest now unbuttoning his shirt, fingernails grazing across his chest causing him to moan into her mouth.

She made quick work of his shirt and then her hands were fumbling with the button on his trousers. Finally she had it undone, the zip quickly following and then he felt her hands on him and he knew he was past the point of no return. He didn't need to do or say anything. Without ever breaking the kiss she lifted herself up into her knees, moved her own pants to one side and then plunged down onto him.

At this point he gasped and broke away from the kiss, groaning loudly, 'God Molly, just...just give me a minute.' He breathed deeply, closing his eyes and willing himself not to come before they'd even got started. As soon as he'd stopped kissing her she'd moved to his neck, her hands going back to his hair and he could feel her kissing down his throat.

Once he felt he'd got himself back under control somewhat he thrust gently upwards. She moaned in response grinding herself down on him, meeting every thrust. He needed to ensure this was mutually enjoyable before his release. He undid her top and pushed it off her shoulders pulling the strap of her bra down as well to expose her breast to him. Eagerly he licked and sucked at her nipple whilst she held his head in place. He could tell she was close and he bit down on her nipple before looking back up at her and saying 'Come for me Molly'.

It was all that was needed for her to cry out as her orgasm took over, the relief for Sherlock of being able to let loose his control was indescribable. It had been years since he'd orgasmed with another person and it had never, ever felt this good. He felt Molly relax against him and he held her close breathing heavily against her neck.

**OK so I don't know what happened there. They were supposed to be interrupted by a phone call from Mycroft but he must have been delayed. Ah well, what's done is done now. They'll have to live with the consequences wont they. Just make sure you let me know what you thought of it...**


	7. Chapter 7

**I want to do a huge shout out to all those people who take time out to post a review on my stories. It means a lot! Each and every time I receive a review it gives me the confidence in myself to carry on writing. It is validation that I haven't just posted complete rubbish. So thank you for every review, for every person following me or the story and for every favourite.**

**Lastly, I can't resist mentioning Lilsherlockian1975's theory that Mycroft delayed making his phone call to Sherlock, in the last chapter, because the sweet trolley came round at work, I think she might be right!**

**Chapter 7**

It was just as Sherlock was beginning to come down from his high and wondering what he should say to Molly that his phone rang. He shifted forwards with Molly still on his lap to see the caller ID. He sighed, 'it's Mycroft, I need to take this.'

She nodded sliding off his knee and heading toward the bathroom. He noticed she hadn't looked him in the eye and he felt the loss of her immediately, wishing he could call her back. Instead he answered the phone with one hand whilst zipping himself back up with the other.

'Brother,' was his curt acknowledgement.

'I got your request Sherlock, we need to talk. I've sent a car to collect you it'll be there in five minutes.'

'I'm not at Baker St...'

'I'm fully aware of where you are, I do hope I'm not interrupting anything between you and the delightful Doctor Hooper.'

Sherlock knew better than to answer that one. Mycroft's powers of deduction had always been as good if not better than his own. He'd no doubt be able to tell what he and Molly had done as soon as he saw him but there was no point giving him any more ammunition.

'Until we meet then.' He hung up, pocketing the phone and buttoning his shirt back up. He could hear Molly in the shower and wondered what he ought to do.

In the end he collected his coat and let himself out of the flat. He could text her from the car.

SHSHSHSHSHSHSHSH

The text he sent was as neutral as he could make it, he knew he wasn't good with sentiment and didn't want to say the wrong thing. They'd be able to talk soon enough.

_Gone to meet Mycroft. Don't wait up, will probably be late so will go back to Baker St. SH_

There, he shouldn't get into trouble for that.

There was a text there from John. Sherlock read it and frowned in confusion before replying.

_Hope you haven't removed too many of Molly's clothes today. JW_

_Just her top, we worked round the rest. Why do you ask? SH_

He'd just settled back in the car to think when his phoned beeped again.

_WTF, Sherlock, I was kidding, what the hell is going on? JW_

_Now is not the time John, will talk to you tomorrow. SH_

_What does WTF mean? SH_

Sherlock closed his eyes. He was hopeful that his brother's needing to see him meant he would be able to give him access to the appropriate records. He was surprised however when they pulled up outside one of the more secret MI6 offices.

Anthea, Mycroft's PA, met the car as it pulled up. 'Mr Holmes, I'll take you up to see Mr Holmes,' she smiled a little at the absurdity of the sentence.

He followed behind as she took them through various levels of security to get to Mycroft, eventually showing him into Mycroft's office where he proceeded to spin round on his heel taking in the room.

One whole wall was filled with screens, all of which were blank. His brother was obviously being cautious not to reveal too much information to him then. There was a round conference style table in one corner with six chairs and a desk near the window complete with two more screens, everything was very modern and very unlike Mycroft's more public office. Mycroft himself was sat on the edge of the desk, arms folded over his chest, waiting for him

'Impressive, not often I get to see your true place of work. Why the privileged visit?'

'We need to talk and I need you to understand something Sherlock. My job isn't all fun and games, there is a serious side too.'

'Oh, please!' Sherlock rolled his eyes.

'Talking of fun and games I take it you won't want to talk about your new relationship with Ms Hooper. I'm sure I don't need to point out the evidence to you.' His eyes trailed down over Sherlock's appearance and then back up as he smiled sweetly.

'You assume right, now can you give me access to the police database or not.'

'I could, but I'm not going to. What you want to find is not on there... we made sure of that.'

Sherlock's eyes narrowed, 'and why, pray tell, would you have needed to get involved here.'

'You have to understand Sherlock that sometimes decisions have to be made for the greater good. There is no black and white here just shades of grey.'

Sherlock just stared at his brother his face unreadable, 'go on.'

'It was nearly twenty years ago. I'd not long been in post here, in a more junior position obviously. There was a case, out in the Midlands, a rape and murder of a woman in her early twenties, I believe. All very unfortunate. An ex-boyfriend was arrested; there was a witness who had seen them together. Case went to court, ex was found guilty, sentenced and hung himself in prison three years later.'

Sherlock was beginning to piece the links together. 'I take it our witness was Rachel Wheeler and the man found hanged today was what...the prosecuting lawyer, before he became a judge.'

'Correct.'

Sherlock started to pace around the room mind whirring.

'Case of mistaken identity, innocent man sent to prison, family member or friend looking to exact revenge. But why are you involved, this wouldn't normally be your area... Oh! MI6 were involved somehow...what rogue agent went a bit too far and you let bad justice take its course.'

'Well, glad to see sex hasn't diminished your powers of reasoning brother. I knew you'd catch on once you had more facts. The only unknown left is who is committing the crimes. I'll send you the copies of the files; let me know if you come up with anything.' He stood and made his way round the desk to sit down, effectively dismissing Sherlock.

He, however, stood his ground, 'and the real rapist and murderer, the MI6 agent, where is he?'

Mycroft didn't meet Sherlock's eye, 'that is classified as you well know.'

Sherlock stepped forward watching his brother, 'no, there's more isn't there, has he been killed too. That would be quite a coup for our serial killer. Or is he currently missing in action. Come on Mycroft, you need to give me all the facts if I am to help.'

Mycroft sighed heavily. 'Fine, he's missing. I have agents out searching for him. He retired from active service just shy of five years ago but has held down a desk job here ever since. He hasn't shown up for two days. Of course, if we find out anything I will let you know.'

Sherlock didn't reply just made his way to the door. As he reached for the door handle Mycroft piped up, 'do pass on my regards to Ms Hooper. Mummy will be so glad to hear there's a chance for grandchildren.'

Sherlock's jaw clenched and his knuckles whitened as he gripped the door handle but he exited without replying.

MHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMH

Molly came out of the bathroom to an empty flat. She quickly spotted the text on her phone from Sherlock and she sat down heavily on the very settee they'd just had sex on.

She was nervous that he had left so quickly. She knew she was probably just being paranoid and that he'd left because of the case but she had no idea how he felt about 'them' if there even was a them.

She did however take a moment to remember back to that moment an hour ago when she'd realised he was going to kiss her. She'd waited for years for that moment; in fact she'd given up hope of it ever happening. The reality however was so much better than her fantasies had been.

The feeling of his lips on hers had been overwhelming. His hands gripping her face dominating the kiss taking from her what he needed, wanted, had made her feel powerful. She'd often found sex unsatisfactory in the past, she needed a lot of foreplay to arouse her to the point of orgasm but with Sherlock even kissing him had her squirming with needy desire and in the end the only stimulation she had needed were his cock, his mouth on her breast and his voice. When he had told her to come it had literally sent her over the edge.

She pulled her knees up to her chest hugging them and let the smile spread across her face, 'oh my God, I had sex with Sherlock!' She said aloud to the room. Toby cocked his head up from where he was sleeping on the armchair. 'Ohmygodohmygodohmygod.'

She bounced up from the chair, hugging herself and spinning round. She was determined to enjoy this moment and worry about Sherlock's reaction later.

**Sorry to leave you all hanging like this but seeing as Mycroft had finished his cake it was time to move the plot line on. You guys know what to do now - review, review, review, feed my inner muse :) and I'll make sure I post the next chapter Thursday.**


	8. Chapter 8

**Hi All, glad to have finished work and have a chance to get back to writing. Here we are with the next instalment. How are Sherlock and Molly feeling post-sex? Read on and all will be revealed!**

**Chapter 8**

Two days had passed and Molly had heard nothing from Sherlock. She had now gone beyond worry and was entering despair. What if he'd decided it was all just a terrible mess, what was she thinking of course he had decided it was a mistake. He was Sherlock Holmes he didn't do relationships or sex or any of it.

She dragged herself to work feeling awful, depressed. She wasn't sure whether to contact him and if she did what she should say. One thing was certain she was not going to apologise or say she agreed it was a mistake because for her it wasn't and she hadn't forced him into it.

When she arrived at the morgue she was surprised to see John waiting there, sitting on one of the stools.

'Hey Molls, don't mind me, Sherlock said to meet him here as he has some tests he wanted to check on.'

'Oh, OK,' Molly's face fell, she felt a bit sick at the thought of seeing him.

John noticed her expression and stood up, fists flexing, 'Are you OK? Has he done something? I knew it, what's happened, honestly I turn my back for a minute and he's cocking everything up isn't he?'

At that moment Sherlock swept in carrying a couple of files under his arm.

'John, Molly.' He moved to Molly and before she knew what was happening he bent his head and kissed her soundly on the lips. 'I need to check on the test results from last week. Plus I have an old autopsy report that I'd appreciate your opinion on. Any chance of a coffee?'

He turned to John appearing not to notice the two shocked faces, 'John how's Mary and...Elizabeth, doing well I hope? Right, do you want to get up to speed on the case whilst Molly gets us the coffee.'

'Hang on,' said John finding his voice at last, 'what was that?'

'What was what?' Said Sherlock confused.

'That...that,' John waved his hands towards Molly who had her hand on her lips and was suddenly looking much happier.

Sherlock rolled his eyes, 'it was a kiss John, honestly, I've seen you give them often enough.'

'Yes, well, it's not like it's normal for you though is it. So, what, you and Molly, are you a thing now?'

'A thing...if you mean are we in a relationship now, yes, yes we are. Anyhow we do have a case to work on, people ARE being murdered you know, you're normally telling me that I'm the one who doesn't care enough.'

John widened his eyes at Molly and the look of shock on his face plus the revelation from Sherlock made her giggle. 'I'll just go get those coffees then.'

She left the morgue feeling bemused but suddenly happy. Typical that he would assume she would know they are in a relationship now and not actually discuss it with her. Still she was going to enjoy the moment rather than grouse at him. She figured she was going to have to pick her battles.

MHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMH

They ended up moving up to the lab so that Sherlock could work on his experiments. It suited Molly as she had no autopsies to do but plenty of paperwork to catch up on.

She heard Sherlock updating John on the case, telling them both about the visit to Mycroft's office and the files he had received on the original case.

He specifically wanted her opinion on the autopsy of the original victim. Whether the wounds inflicted after death on their victim matched those on the original. 'I want to know whether it could be the original killer repeating his crime or not. The other option is if they match it could mean the new killer had access to these records to see the original injuries.'

In the end Molly wasn't able to say definitively one way or the other. There were some similarities, but given one was an actual rape and the other faked it was too hard to say.

Sherlock huffed in frustration but carried on with his other work.

Just before she went to lunch Sherlock came up behind her wrapping his arms round her waist and nuzzling into her neck. She initially froze in surprise but soon relaxed into it giggling again.

'Come round to Baker St after work, bring food, I'm not sure you'd want to eat anything currently sitting in my fridge.' He turned her around and she let her hands move up to his neck and hair. She loved being able to twist her fingers into his curls, loved the noises he made when she did. He kissed her again, a slow, passionate kiss that made her insides melt. She could feel herself getting aroused pushing herself against him.

There was a coughing noise from the side of them, 'you know I am still here,' said John in mock frustration. He was finding the sight of Sherlock being so affectionate with someone very disconcerting. He remembered back to the 'Janine' incident and hope to God he didn't have some weird ulterior motive that would end up hurting Molly. He definitely planned to quiz him later.

Sherlock broke off the kiss and just gave John an annoyed look, 'fine, Molly, until later.' He gave her a nod and a smirk before gathering his things together and leaving with John in tow.

SHSHSHSHSHSHSHSH

'So?'

They were sat in the taxi on their way back to Baker St. when John asked the question.

Sherlock, distracted, replied with a 'so...what, John?'

'So, you and Molly?'

Sherlock narrowed his eyes, looking over at John, 'yes, me and Molly.'

John sighed in exasperation, 'how long as this been going on? Only she seemed surprised when you said you were in a relationship. She did know didn't she?'

'Given that we had sex I would have thought it were obvious that we were in a relationship.'

'In the eighteen hundreds maybe, but nowadays not so much. You're lucky this is Molly and I'm sure she'll be happy to be in a relationship with you but you might want to actually tell her how you feel.'

Sherlock stared out of the windows.

'So?'

'This again, really John? We do have a case, are you sure you wouldn't rather discuss that because I know I would.'

'Hmmmmm...no, have to say your sex life seems much more interesting. So, what exactly are your feelings about Molly? It's just Mary will want to know.' John smiled widely.

'Most amusing, John, enjoy your gossip but I think I'll keep my...feelings...between Molly and myself. Now we need to give some more thought to the original crime. The killings are not going to end when the agent is killed so we need to work out who might be next. Try to get ahead.'

The rest of the afternoon was taken up with business until John wearily returned home to his family.

MHMHMHMHMHMHMHMH

It was just after six thirty when Molly made her way into Sherlock's flat bearing some fish and chips for their dinner.

Sherlock was facing the window playing his violin as she arrived so she set about putting the food out, not wanting to disturb him.

She loved listening to him playing, he was obviously very accomplished. She thought back to John and Mary's wedding and the piece he had composed especially for them, it had been beautiful almost moving her to tears. She didn't have any recollection of seeing John and Mary's dance just of watching Sherlock playing, fascinated by him as always.

She suddenly realised that the music had fallen silent. She looked up from her spot in the kitchen to find Sherlock watching her. He'd put down the violin and bow.

'Are you hungry? There's plenty of food.'

He started moving slowly towards her, 'I'm very hungry Molly...but not for food.'

His voice was low and quiet and seemed to send sparks of lust shuddering through her body. She felt like prey being stalked as he moved closer, part of her almost tempted to step backwards.

He stood in front of her staring down into her eyes and she was suddenly struck by how much taller he was, how much stronger.

Slowly she traced one hand up his arm and then down over his chest feeling the strength that lay beneath her palm.

She brought her other hand up and eased open the button on his shirt. She'd always noticed those buttons straining over his chest always tempted to pop them open, now was her chance.

She stood up on her tiptoes and kissed the newly exposed skin. When she looked up Sherlock hadn't moved but he'd closed his eyes momentarily. She saw him open them again and look back down at her silently waiting to see what she would do next.

She moved her hands down popping open another button. She noticed her fingers shaking slightly, fumbling with the buttons, nerves starting to get the better of her. Last time they had been caught up in the moment but here, now, her mind was in overdrive that they were really going to do this again, that she was with Sherlock Holmes.

He must have sensed her nervousness coming through because all of a sudden he caught her wrist in his hand. Her breath caught in her throat and when she looked up his face was so close. Then he kissed her and it felt as though the world had stopped turning, there was just the two of them. She felt herself being moved and then her back hit the wall. She relaxed into the kiss which Sherlock was deepening now they had the stability of support behind them.

He was still holding one of her wrists, his other hand round her waist holding her close. This time it was his hand that travelled up her arm before travelling down to the front of her shirt. He undid her buttons one handed and pushed the material aside sliding the palm of his hand across her skin. The feel of him made her shudder again and she found herself catching his bottom lip with her teeth, biting and pulling lightly. He moaned as she did and quickly unhooked the front fastening bra; then his hand was on her right breast and her legs felt weak.

He moved his lips down from hers to her neck as he kissed his way down to her chest before sucking her nipple into his mouth. She twined her hands in his hair holding him to her wondering if her legs were going to give out. She could feel her arousal building with every swirl of his tongue and she ached to feel him inside her already.

'God, Sherlock, I want you.'

He replied with an 'mmmmmmm' which she felt ripple through her whole body. She knew she was already wet and ready for him when she felt his mouth travelling lower. He was on his knees in front of her, hands on her hips, mouth on her stomach.

He broke off and looked up at her slyly whilst he unbuttoned her trousers. His pupils were so dilated his eyes looked black rather than their normal blue/green.

Slowly he slid her trousers and pants down her legs before she stepped out of them kicking off her shoes at the same time.

He kissed her inner thigh and her breath hitched. She could feel her inner walls clench and knew it wouldn't take much from him to make her come. Once again her fingers twined in his hair but this time she felt as though she were holding on for dear life. Her eyes had closed, her head leaning on the wall and her whole world had narrowed down to his lips, his hands and his tongue and where they were touching her.

Then she felt his tongue sliding up her inner thigh until he reached her centre. She could hear herself starting to ramble, 'oh God, Sherlock, I can't, oh God, please.'

His tongue swirled over her clit again and again and again and she could feel her orgasm rising, feel her muscles contracting and relaxing over and over. By the time she came the only thing holding her up was Sherlock his mouth sliding over her drinking her in. As she came down from her high she slid down until she was straddling his lap where he was kneeling on the floor.

He went to wipe his mouth but she stopped him kissing him deeply, tasting herself on his lips and she could already feel lust unfurling once more in her stomach. She still wanted to feel him inside her.

She pushed his shirt off his shoulders until it hit the floor and relished the feel of his skin under her hands. As they moved over his back she could feel the bumps and scars that signified previous injuries. Her breath caught in her throat for a second time but this time it was to bite back sudden tears at the thought of him being hurt. She felt a fierce anger at the thought of anyone hurting him again and knew at that moment she could and would kill for him if she had to...if it meant he didn't get hurt again.

Her hands moved to the waistband of his trousers when they heard the first beep from a mobile.

'Ignore it,' mumbled Sherlock as he was sucking and kissing at her neck. She knew he was probably going to end up marking her, but she couldn't bring herself to care, after all that's what scarves were for.

A minute later it beeped again. Sherlock raised his head and looked towards it huffing before he kissed her again, his hands on her breasts, thumbs brushing across her nipples. She moaned into the kiss.

When his phone beeped for a third time followed shortly after by Molly's Sherlock broke away leaning his forehead on Molly's and breathing heavily.

'I suppose we'd better see what's happened?' She said softly, wishing beyond hope that it was nothing, just coincidence.

She moved off his lap reaching for her clothes.

'They're from Mycroft. They've found the body of the agent. It's being transported to Bart's so you can carry out the autopsy.' There was a pause whilst he looked at the final text and she saw the scowl that moved across his features before he glanced up and finished with 'he's texting you to let you know. We'd better get dressed and go, we still need something to help us identify the murderer.'

Molly nodded and sighed before re-dressing. She picked up her mobile and checked the message.

_As I expect my brother is with you and choosing not to answer his texts please inform him we are sending a body to Bart's for your attentions. M Holmes_

As she threw the phone back in her bag Sherlock was waiting for her by the door. He gestured for her to go through but as she went past he bent to her ear and in his deepest, sexiest voice informed her that they would be resuming their recent activities as soon as possible. Molly gulped trying to damp down the sudden flare of lust that made her want to rip his clothes off again.

**I think I would have had to just rip them off, not sure how she had the will power not too.**

**Next update will be Sunday, until then let me know how you think it's all going.**


	9. Chapter 9

**Sorry for ending that last chapter when I did, I know lots of you wanted Mycroft to get distracted by the cake trolley or for Sherlock and Molly to ignore the case and the phones.**

**I will make it up to you eventually, I promise.**

**Chapter 9**

Molly sat nervously in the cab with Sherlock. They were apparently 'in a relationship' but she still didn't quite know how she should act around him. With any other boyfriend she would have snuggled up with them in the back of the taxi but she didn't quite know whether she should. She shook her head at herself as she looked out of the window.

Sherlock must have seen because as she glanced back round he was looking at her quizzically. 'What are you thinking Molly?'

Molly sighed looking down at her hands on her lap, 'nothing really I...just it feels strange still...you and me, I don't quite know how to act around you now we're...you know...together.'

He narrowed his eyes, 'well, how would you act now with someone else?'

Molly smiled shyly and scooted over so she was side by side with Sherlock. He looked down at her slightly nervously. She lifted his arm so she could slide into his side and it was looped over her shoulder. She felt him initially tense up before gradually relaxing and holding her closer.

She sighed again but this time more contentedly. She turned her head to look up at him, 'OK?'

He paused for a few moments before replying, 'yes, surprisingly this is OK.'

Moly relaxed against him, _maybe this could actually work_ she thought to herself.

MHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMH

They arrived at Bart's ten minutes later and made their way together down to the morgue. She quizzed Sherlock as they walked about who the victim was and the cause of death.

'Well, I was kind of hoping you would be able to help with the cause of death,' he looked down at her smiling. She found herself punching him lightly on the arm and laughing with him before being surprised, was she loosening up round Sherlock Holmes?

When they got there Molly changed into her lab coat and set about preparing for the autopsy. It all seemed fairly straightforward, bullet to the back of the head. Sherlock was muttering about entry points and what it meant that it was close quarters but from behind.

'I need that bullet Molly as soon as you can, ballistics will hopefully confirm my suspicions.'

Just at that point Anthea, Mycroft's PA, arrived carrying a file.

'Mr Holmes, your brother has been delayed but asked me to bring you this file regarding the deceased. He also sent a list of staff who would have had access to his file.'

'I see my brother is of the same mind then. The killer must be someone who works at MI6. They had to have had access to both his current record, the past crime record, his location and possibly, depending on the bullet, access to weaponry...Oh...'

Molly recognised that tone in Sherlock's voice and looked over. He was staring into space, fingers on his temples, eyes flickering from side to side, 'yes, yes, he, and it must have been a he to achieve some of the physical aspects of the previous crimes. He must be adopted. There's no way he would have passed the MI6 clearance if they'd known his connection to the previous crime. So he's adopted, finds out about his birth parents only to find out his...yes his dad was convicted of a crime he didn't commit and killed himself. He looks up the records at work only to find the cover up.'

Molly loved the way he thought aloud, speaking almost so fast she could hardly keep up.

'So he killed the witness and the prosecuting lawyer, they knew about the cover up, maybe had a pay off.'

'Mr Holmes...' Anthea tried to break into his flow, looking at her phone with a concerned expression.

'He then tracked down the agent who'd caused the original death. Killed him, had to use a gun, couldn't go up against a trained killer any other way, so not an agent himself...no...his weapon is the information...so IT then...IT security. Who do we have on the list from there?' He looked at Anthea.

She was busy typing into her phone, worry written all over her face now.

Sherlock strode over, 'what is it?' He grabbed her shoulders almost shaking her. Molly gasped in shock she'd never seen Sherlock grab someone like that. She was about to call over when Anthea spoke, 'it's...it's Mycroft, he's missing. His car set off 20 minutes ago but it's dropped off the grid. We're trying to trace it but...'

'Nonononono...' Sherlock clutched his hair, spinning, 'the cover up. It was Mycroft's orders wasn't it? Wasn't it?' He shouted the last at Anthea who flinched away from him.

'Yes, yes he was new in post, had to prove himself when it came to difficult decisions. But yes, it was Mycroft...I need to call the office. I'll be back in a second with the latest information.' She strode over to the doors already talking quietly into her phone.

Sherlock balled up his hands pressing them to his eyes as he fell back against a desk. Molly ripped off her gloves and went to him. She had never seen him react like this. She had always assumed there was no love lost between Sherlock and Mycroft but she was seeing now how wrong that was.

She pulled at his wrists seeing tears streaking his cheeks. 'Sherlock, Sherlock come on. You need to pull yourself together. Mycroft needs your brain not your sentiment. Don't make me slap you again...please.'

He looked down at her concerned face, she continued 'come on...think, where is he, where would the killer have taken him?'

'I..err..it's too far to go to the original crime scene. He needs somewhere quiet, where they won't be disturbed. He...um..he probably wants Mycroft to su...suffer before...'

'Stop, come on don't think of that. Now where have they gone? Come on, Sherlock, this is what you do. Solve it!' She was shouting at him now, scared for him, for what might happen to his brother.

'The warehouse, the warehouse where he killed Rachel Wheeler. It will be deserted now, sealed off as a crime scene but no longer needing a guard. They'll be there, I have to go. Thank you Molly.'

He grabbed her face kissing her quickly.

'No, wait I'm coming with you.'

He had started to walk away but he turned back, 'no, you are absolutely not coming with me. This is too dangerous, I can't afford to be looking after you as well as saving Mycroft. Stay here!' And with that he pushed out of the double doors.

Molly's face hardened, she remembered her anger as she had touched the scars on his back. She was not going to let anyone hurt him again, not if she could help it.

SHSHSHSHSHSHSHSH

Sherlock had made his way to the warehouse. He had tried to contact John on the way but there had been no answer. He assumed he must be busy with his family. He had been forced to ring Lestrade and he knew, from Anthea, that MI6 were also on their way.

He also knew it was no good. He knew that the killer had no intention of coming out of this alive. You don't kidnap someone of Mycroft's stature and influence and think you can walk away. So Sherlock was aware that he would kill both himself and Mycroft before he would let himself be captured. It was an impossible situation.

He knew as he entered the building that he was potentially signing his own death warrant but this was Mycroft. He couldn't do nothing. Maybe he could delay the killer long enough, distract him enough that MI6 could do something, anything.

He walked down the corridor towards the room where the first victim had been killed. Recalled how Molly had been with him when he had last visited. For the first time his heart clenched and he almost regretted the action he was about to take. If he died it would hit Molly hard. He pushed the thought away, shoved it to the back of his mind and locked it away. He couldn't afford distractions.

He pushed open the door to the room and walked in.

**Dun, dun, duuuuun. It's not often I have a cliff hanger but here it is. I'll leave you all dangling for a few days, hope you manage to hold on. As ever let me know your thoughts. I'll try to post the next chapter on Thursday.**


	10. Chapter 10

**Thank you all so, so much for all your reviews and comments, I have to admit I never realised Mycroft was so well loved, quite a few of you are concerned that I don't let him get hurt too much. **

**Well the waiting is over, a day early, hope you all hung in there. Let's get on with the story and see how it all unfolds.**

**Chapter 10**

As Sherlock pushed open the door and walked in his eyes scanned the room taking in as much detail as he could. The killer was perched on an old desk opposite the door, obviously waiting for him, gun trained inexpertly on him. Sherlock calculated the odds of disarming him, without being killed or seriously injured, but due to the distance between them they were low.

He was relieved to see Mycroft was alive albeit somewhat worse for wear. He had been handcuffed to a chair and beaten. One eye had almost swollen shut, there were red marks across his face that would soon become bruising and blood was dripping from his mouth to his chin.

He looked up at Sherlock and tried to smile, wincing as he did, 'Brother, how kind of you to drop by.'

'No problem, Mycroft, anytime.'

'So, Mr Holmes Jnr makes an appearance. Have to say I expected you ten minutes ago, what took you so long?'

'I apologise, traffic in London is becoming even more of a nightmare.' Sherlock replied appraising the killer and walking slowly round the room towards him.

'Ah, ah,ah stay over there next to your brother.' He waved him away using his gun. 'I do have to admit that I am sorry to actually see you here. I have no axe to grind with you but now you are here you'll have to stay and take part. I'm sure I don't need to fill you in in the details of why we're here.'

'I think I have got the gist of it, but would love to hear it from your perspective. There's always something I miss you see,' said Sherlock playing for time.

'Oh no, no, no I know what you're trying to do. Playing for time until Scotland Yard or MI6 get here and somehow save the day. I don't think so. Here's what's going to happen. I'm going to kill you, quite soon I'm afraid. I'm killing you first so your brother can see and understand the consequences of his actions. Eventually I will kill him and then no doubt be killed by whoever is going to be out there waiting for me. Suicidal tendencies, see, maybe they do run in my family. Once I set myself on this path I didn't kid myself that there would be any other way out of it.'

'So any final words Mr Holmes. And don't make some long speech to delay things or I'll just shoot you anyway.'

'Given that you are not expecting any of us to make it out of this room alive saying any final words seems a bit unnecessary. So if you're going to kill me you'd better just go ahead.'

'Fair enough...'

It was at that moment there was a cry from the doorway and Molly rushed in and flew at the killer. Her fury caught him unawares initially and she beat him on the chest with her fists. 'Don't you dare, don't you dare...' she cried.

Sherlock had started to move towards them but the killer grabbed Molly twisting her round holding her across her chest. He pointed the gun at her head, 'no you don't, move back right now. So, who the hell do we have here?'

Molly was breathing heavily tears streaked down her face as she looked at Sherlock.

'Molly, I told you not to come,' he said softly to her before turning his attention back to the man holding her. 'Please, let her go. She has nothing...nothing to do with this. If you kill her you're as bad as Mycroft, as bad as the agent who killed that girl.'

Molly wriggled in his grasp her hands clutching at his arm but not managing to budge his grip.

'But Mr Holmes she has everything to do with this now, she brought herself into it. I didn't invite her. I..I..what have..' He staggered back a step the hand holding the gun swinging round to point towards Mycroft. 'Drugged...you...drugged me.' He partially lost his grip on Molly and as he fired the gun towards Mycroft she pushed his arm up so the bullet flew harmlessly into the ceiling.

He fell back heavily taking Molly down with him to the floor. As they landed the gun fired for a second time.

Time seemed to stop for Sherlock, all the breath in his body was sucked out as though he had been placed in a vacuum. He tried to move towards them both but it was as though he were walking through treacle. There was just one thought screaming in his head, Molly!

He jolted back to reality as his knees hit the concrete floor at the side of the two of them. Molly was struggling to free herself from the tangle that they had landed in. He pulled her roughly towards him, eyes scanning her for any injuries, before wrapping her in a bear hug that almost squeezed the breath out of her.

'It's Okay Sherlock, it's Okay, I'm fine,' but she was holding him just as tightly one hand in his hair gripping the back of his head.

Eventually he stood them both up looking down at the killer. He could now see the syringe sticking out of his upper arm where Molly had obviously put it.

'Fast acting sedative,' she said when she saw where he was looking, 'stole it from work before I followed you here. He should be out for at least two hours.'

Sherlock's relief was washed aside by a sudden surge of anger, 'yes and why are you here Molly? I clearly told you to stay behind. This was stupid, reckless, you could have been killed.'

She pulled away from him as though he had slapped her. '**I **could have been killed. What exactly was your plan Mr Brainbox Genius, just walk in with no weapon other than your smart mouth coz that plan was working out so well for you. Good job I came along to save the day.'

Sherlock opened his mouth to respond when Mycroft broke in, 'yes, sorry, I do hate to interrupt such a sweet and sentimental reunion but do you think you could possibly release me and notify the police and MI6 who are, as we speak, planning on storming the building complete with CS gas that isn't actually required.'

Sherlock crouched down behind Mycroft's back quickly picking the handcuffs, 'yes and Molly needs a blanket.'

Both Mycroft and Molly looked at him in complete bemusement, 'I'm sorry, what?' Said Mycroft eventually.

'A blanket, Molly needs a blanket. Keep up.' He helped Mycroft to stand before he turned and grabbing Molly's hand he made his way to the exit.

'Sherlock, why would I need a blanket?'

'You're in shock, or at least you soon will be. Lestrade tells me that's what people need when they're in shock, a blanket, for some reason it's normally an orange one though I can't see why the colour makes a difference.'

MHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMH

Ten minutes later as Molly sat in the back of an ambulance, blanket on shoulders, sipping a cup of hot, sweet tea she had to admit she did feel better.

She watched Sherlock talking to Lestrade and some other guy she didn't recognise. His hands were flying all over the place as he was no doubt informing them both of what had happened and their stupidity in not working it out sooner or getting there quicker.

Molly was just relieved he was alive and OK. As he'd left her, in the morgue, she had known without doubt that she would follow him. It was just a matter of getting her things before sneaking upstairs and obtaining the sedative. She might have to see if Mycroft could do something about that. She didn't want anyone getting in trouble when it was noticed it was missing.

At the thought of Mycroft she looked behind her, into the body of the ambulance, where Mycroft was being treated for his injuries. There was nothing life threatening, nothing that wouldn't heal. He was as bad as his brother though, snapping at the ambulance crew, barking orders at his PA who was busy texting out his instructions.

She wondered if any part of him was sorry for everything that had happened. If he hadn't taken that decision all those years ago none of this would have come about. Maybe Sherlock would bring it up with him some day and let her know. She was still a bit too in awe of Mycroft to ask him herself.

That brought her back round to Sherlock. He had finished berating Lestrade and was stalking back over to her, all ruffled hair and coat billowing. The lights around the warehouse casting shadows, emphasising his amazing cheekbones. She wondered whether it was wrong to feel horny so soon after such a frightening occurrence, but then decided she didn't care. She wanted Sherlock Holmes and she wanted him right now!

**So, which is the better cliff hanger, this one or the last one ;). **

**For those who might be wondering I got the idea for the sedative injected into the upper arm from the unaired pilot episode of Sherlock. He didn't seem to notice he'd been injected so neither did our killer.**

**The story is winding down now and I'll post the last chapter at the weekend. **


	11. Chapter 11

**Sorry, I was aiming for this to be posted yesterday but FanFic wasn't playing ball.**

**Anyway, I'm always amazed when I get to the end of a story, I can't quite believe that I've written another one. Thank you all for your positive support, I love the writing and am glad you all appear to enjoy the reading.**

**So without further ado and with normal disclaimers applying let us end this Sherlolly tale.**

**Chapter 11**

As he arrived before her she stood up putting her nearly finished cup of tea down.

'Are you alright Molly? Feeling better?'

'Yes, take me home please.'

'I will in a minute, I just need to talk to Mycroft.'

Molly pulled on his lapels until he came down to her level. She leant forward whispering in his ear, 'no, take me home, right now,' and she licked the edge of his ear from the lobe to the top.

Sherlock jerked a little in shock. He pulled back looking her in the eye taking in her dilated pupils, her uneven breathing. She licked her bottom lip slowly and then bit it. Sherlock gulped.

'Mycroft, I'm sure you're fine here. I need to take Doctor Hooper home so I'll maybe see you tomorrow. Have you told Mother?'

'No, of course I haven't you know how she worries and make sure you don't either. Last thing I need is her turning up to look after me.'

Sherlock took Molly's hand and pulled her away towards a waiting cab. Molly rolled her eyes, did he have shares in London Black cabs, he never seemed to have trouble finding one. As they climbed in and he gave the Baker St. address he started texting on his phone.

'Who are you texting?' Molly asked.

'Mother, it's only fair that Mycroft have further punishment. After all a lot of this was his fault, he needs to suffer the full consequences.' He smirked at Molly.

As he finished he threw the phone back in his pocket and then turned his full attention towards her. Now she felt as though it were her turn to gulp.

'I seem to recall we were in the middle of doing something when we were rudely interrupted by our phones. I don't suppose you want to pick up where we left off?'

As he spoke he moved closer to Molly leaning over her until their lips were just an inch apart. She could smell his cologne and just the very scent of him made her mouth water in anticipation. She moved her mouth up to meet his relishing the feel of his soft lips moving against hers. It seemed so much the sweeter for her fear earlier that he might be injured or, worse, killed.

She moaned into his mouth and he deepened the kiss, his tongue sliding into her mouth to meet hers. Her hands moved to his face, tracing those cheek bones before sliding round to his neck and his hair, still damp from being outside. She scraped her nails across his scalp and heard as well as felt him groan.

It was only when the cabbie cleared his throat and let them know that they had arrived that Molly even remembered he was there. She blushed a deep red as Sherlock pulled away before passing some money forwards to pay.

He grabbed her hand as they exited the cab and pulled her towards that familiar black door quickly unlocking it before dragging her inside. Her back hit the door as it slammed shut and before she knew what was happening he was kissing her again, pressing his body up against her, her feet almost off the floor.

'Cooeee, is that you Sherlock making all that noise? Oh my...I think you both need to go upstairs before we're all embarrassed.'

Sherlock broke off the kiss again as Mrs Hudson started to talk, he sighed in exasperation. 'Yes, thank you Mrs Hudson,' he said as he pulled Molly towards the stairs.

'Oh. Molly it's you, I thought it was John. How are you dear?'

Molly was about to reply when there was a roar, 'not now Mrs Hudson!' Molly smiled in apology as she was dragged away.

Mrs Hudson pulled her dressing gown closed at the top muttered a quick, 'well really...' as she made her way back to her own flat.

As soon as they were in Sherlock's flat he was on her again. It was as though neither of them could get enough of the other. His coat and jacket were the first to hit the floor followed by Molly's shortly after. Sherlock had her pushed up against the wall her top open his lips and tongue on her breast whilst one hand was undoing her trousers.

Molly moaned loudly as he bit down on her nipple just enough to tread the fine line between pain and pleasure. He kissed his way back up her chest and neck stopping to suck hard at the base of her neck. Molly knew he were marking her as his and it made her squirm against him with need.

She made light work of the buttons on his shirt this time, relishing the feel of his skin under her hands, sliding them over him trying to touch every inch of him.

He stopped suddenly making Molly gasp as he pulled away from her. She looked into his face seeing a look there that she had never seen before, one of pure desire. He grabbed her hand and pulled her behind him to his bedroom. He opened the door and as she crossed the threshold he turned and picking her up he threw her onto his bed.

She giggled leaning up on her elbows watching as he quickly divested himself of the rest of his clothes. She followed suit pulling off her own shirt and shimmying out of her trousers.

He walked up to the edge of the bed looking down on Molly lit up by the moonlight that was coming in through the open curtained window. Molly would normally have felt nervous and exposed laid out on his bed like this but his expression just made her feel beautiful and desired. It also helped that his erection jutting out before him was an obvious sign of his mood.

Molly decided to distract him from his examination of her. She sat up in front of him her head close to his cock looking up at him deviously as she licked her lips. He looked down at her, this time looking slightly nervous.

Slowly she took hold of him sliding her hand up his length and gripping him. She heard him hiss and felt him buck his hips slightly into her touch. She brought her lips to the tip of his cock and licked the head tasting his pre-cum. She took him into her mouth using her hand and lips whilst her other hand held onto his hip.

She felt his hands weave into her hair to give him something to hold onto as she moved back and forth taking him deeper each time. He groaned eventually tugging on her hair until she released him looking up at him questioningly.

'I need to come inside you, I need to fuck you, not your mouth.' He pushed her back onto the bed and crawled up to meet her his hand moving to her centre to circle her clit whilst he kissed her tasting himself slightly as their tongues moved against each other.

Molly knew she was ready for him, she felt as though she had been waiting to have sex with him for far too long. He obviously felt the same because she felt him pushing against her starting to enter her each time he moved his hips.

She brought her legs up to his waist opening herself to him and the next time he moved he pushed into her. To Molly it was the best feeling in the world, lying there with Sherlock moving inside her, the rest of the world a forgotten distant memory. He was everything... he was all she could see, hear, feel and smell. Her hands were clutching him to her, pulling him into her harder and faster. Everything narrowing down to the climax that was building within her.

They both picked up their pace sensing that the other was close and as Molly's orgasm broke she took Sherlock with her, both of them calling the others name and crying out to a God that neither of them believed in.

As they started to get their breath and their senses back Sherlock rolled off her pulling her against him with one arm wrapped around her waist holding her close. With the other hand he pulled a cover over them both.

'God, Molly, what have you done to me?' He kissed her forehead chuckling as he said it.

MHMHMHMHMHMHMHMH

They spent the best part of the next 36 hours either in bed, laughing at Mycroft's increasingly desperate texts begging for respite from mother or foraging for some sort of food in Sherlock's sparse cupboards. By the end Sherlock had extracted a promise from Molly to move in with him. He found he didn't want to live alone again and life with Molly was very distracting.

It was another month before they both realised the full consequence of their actions. As ever it was Sherlock that deduced the change first, Molly had just thought she was coming down with a bug but he begged to differ. 'Your breasts are already at least one size larger, the areoles darker and your stomach is harder than normal. I suspected as much a week ago but needed to gather more evidence before I mentioned anything.'

Molly sat in shock as her mind struggled to accept the truth of what he was saying. Her first reaction was one of joy but she found it was quickly tempered with nervousness about how Sherlock might react.

In all of his speech about her symptoms he hadn't once talked about how he felt about being a father. They'd only been together about six weeks they hadn't even discussed the future, beyond her moving in, let alone children.

Sherlock had been watching Molly as she took in the news. He saw the fleeting smile and then the concern on her face. He knew she needed some reassurance from him. He wasn't sure how much he could offer her but he knew he had to try. He sat down beside her and took her hand.

'I won't lie Molly, this is a shock. Having children is not something I had ever considered, unsurprising given that I had never thought I would even be in a relationship. That being said whilst I know I will no doubt be awful at fatherhood you will probably be brilliant at being a mother. And...for what it's worth I will always be here for you and for our baby.' He put his hand on her stomach and leant forward to kiss her.

Molly smiled as they kissed her hands curling around his neck and into his hair. She pulled back, 'I love you Mister Holmes.'

Sherlock smiled down at her and suddenly realised that he was going to mean every word that he was about to say. It was like a light bulb going on in his head, 'I love you too Doctor Hooper and I'll gladly swap my lonely existence for life with you no matter what the consequences are.' And with that they kissed again.

**And there we go, please let me know what you thought of both the story as a whole and the ending. I'm starting a new story soon so keep your eyes peeled for the first chapter, probably being posted next weekend. Thank you all, my lovelies, for reading. xxx**


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